


Story Teller Who Wants it All

by aurora_chiroptera



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 13:37:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13008957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_chiroptera/pseuds/aurora_chiroptera
Summary: Varric thinks on his relationship with Hawke as the world continues to be upturned.





	Story Teller Who Wants it All

Varric sat by the fire, and he thought about all the women he knew. There were a lot, and they were all far better than he at a great many things. Maybe that was why he never had any luck with them, at getting them to stay.

Hawke came and leaned in beside him, dark, bearded, but smiling. He caught Varric’s thoughtful look, and raised his eyebrows. “Uh oh, another story coming in that mind of yours?”

Varric didn’t think he would smile at the mere presence of a person. That was the kind of thing he would put in Swords and Shields, if he ever continued it. But this broad human man leaning against the back of Varric’s chair? Varric couldn’t help but give into the motion. “Hey there Hawke, win your spar with Bull?”

“Nah, but only because I let the big guy win,” Hawke said, moving now to sit on the table in front of Varric. His left leg brushed against Varric’s, and Varric wanted to lean into it further. Fall into the warmth, the humor, that was Hawke. “It’s Cassandra I am really worried about trying to tussle with. No wonder she was able to catch you.”

Varric pretended affront, resting a hand over his heart. “What, you thought I had just been slow? Honestly Hawke, who helped teach you half of your skills in stealth?”

“A rough childhood on the run,” Hawke said, equally full of false drama and gazing into middle distance for added effect. “Oh yeah, the other half was you.” He nudged Varric’s knee, back to looking down at his old friend with a wink.

Varric sighed, grinned, but didn’t feel the need to say more. He settled, closing his ink bottles and stacking his papers with care. Hawke helped him pick everything up, and then followed as Varric headed back to his quarters.

No one mentioned it when Hawke appeared and began to stay with Varric. Maybe they thought it was natural, though the castle had plenty of space and guest rooms. But Hawke and nobles didn’t work well together, so maybe no one wanted to mention it. There would probably be more raised eyebrows if it was known that with Varric the space being shared was a lot closer, sometimes the full distance closed to nothing.

Varric never had luck with women. But maybe that was because he had a different destiny to be had. Hawke knew by now just how Varric liked to arrange his desk, and upon entering set the papers in their proper places. Varric took up the inks, lining them by color and by the price they had cost him.

He then caught Hawke’s hands in his own. He looked at the scars that were dark against his brown skin. Varric knew each one, he knew their stories, but there were many times he wishes he could take them, the pain they represented, all away. “Hawke, there is a lot of crazy shit happening.”

Hawke’s fingers tightened around Varric’s own, and he wondered what Hawke saw. Were there stories within his own scars? “You want me to be careful.”

“I know there isn’t much use in saying it, but I have to ask because you are the only family I have left,” Varric didn’t want to sound pitiful, but he always wanted to speak the truth with Hawke. Hawke was the person he decided to fill with all the secrets he tried to keep from others. “So yeah, I want you to be careful.”

He watched as one of those hands let his go, then felt it lift his chin. Varric looked into those sky blue eyes, and wondered how he every let himself get into this mess. The mess of loving Hawke, a man of sky and earth. Not of rock. He should have let that little shit get away with Hawke’s purse, all those years ago.

“Varric, I will be careful,” Hawke promised. “I have made it out of the fade. I am going to check on the Wardens. I will be far away from this mess, but you will still be in the middle of it. I think it’s you I should be worrying.”

Varric watched Hawke’s eyes flick over his face, saw them linger on his lips before snapping back to make eye contact. “Aw hell, you know I’m careful. Need to live so I can tell the tale, right?”

Hawke nodded, and a smile grew on his face. “Yes, and I want to read it as soon as you are done the draft.”

“If you were my only reader, you know I would still write,” Varric said, and the words themselves were a promise he didn’t know he held within him.

Hawke kissed him, finally, fully, and Varric dug his hands into Hawk’s long hair. Hawke’s beard felt soft against his own stubbled cheeks, and Hawke’s lips, always a little chapped, were gentle. Varric leaned up, and pulled Hawke’s body closer. It was always a bit of a dance to get them both lined up, but Varric wanted to do this dance for the rest of his life. He wouldn’t feel whole without it, even when there were months at a time they did not see each other. Varric knew what would happen as soon as they found themselves alone.

Hawke gave a pleased hum as Varric’s sucked his lower lip and pulled it with his teeth. It was all down hill from there, it always was. Their height difference meant little when laying down, for one thing. It made it all a lot easier, and Hawke and Varric both knew the other very well. Touches were deliberate, and clothes had no place in what happen next.

Stars peaked from clouds as they lay together after, sated and content. Varric was propped against the pillows, Hawke laying with his head in Varric’s lap, listening. Listening to Varric’s voice, maybe even his heartbeat. Varric found he was back to smiling, he couldn’t quite stop, and continued to read Hawke the filthy poetry Dorian had found among some research books. Varric hardly heard the words himself, too caught up in those blue eyes watching him with more love than anyone ever had, or ever would.


End file.
